


When The River Meets The Sea

by Gemini1179



Series: Working Through Emotion [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Will Add More Pairings As They Come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:38:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6978082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini1179/pseuds/Gemini1179
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Season 2. An attempt to find sense in the trainwreck that was Season 3. Clarke in Polis being Clarke and not so OOC as they had her be on the show specifically for drama. Trying to find a way to steer the ship on course again after JRoth had Lexa be incredibly stupid just so he could have Clarke kill all the Mountain Men. FOR DRAMA!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She Is Wanheda

**Author's Note:**

> When a show is pretty much absurd, it's the actors and the characters they portray that can hook an audience and give a show life. The 100 was a show with incredible potential that was constantly foiled by JRoth and the writers in spite of the work the actors on the show have done. The show "jumped the shark" for me at the end of season 2. I can't believe Lexa would ever honor a deal with the Mountain Men. Take the deal? Yes, honor it? No, why would she? It goes against the very character they established on the show and it was done for JRoth's arrogance. This fic is my attempt to work through that a bit and also sort out Clarke a bit. She's kind of the biggest asshole on the show when you really think about it and her character deserves better imo.

_She_ was here.

It had been a week. A week since Clarke was dragged, literally, kicking and screaming from Lexa’s presence.

Shouting insults and threats.

It had been a week of refusing to see _her_ \- refusing to eat but the bare minimum and she’d only washed that once because the looks she was getting from the handmaidens who brought her food, clothing and water- along with requests from _her_ \- were pretty nasty. As in, Clarke clearly _smelled_ nasty. Well, what did they expect from someone who’d spent the better part of the last three months surviving in the woods?

Lexa stood inside her door, her hands were clasped in front of her and she looked as composed as Clarke had ever seen her in her lightly-armored long cloak ensemble.

Clarke’s anger had not really abated much.

“What part of ‘I don’t want to see you’ was unclear?” Clarke knew it was petty, but she couldn’t help it. The remark seemed to deflect off the stone face of THE COMMANDER before Lexa moved further into the room.

“I’ve respected your wishes for a week Clarke, but time is running out. I’m holding a summit tonight and I’ve invited Skaikru to attend. You will be returned to your people.” Lexa’s voice was steady and her posture regal, but Clarke could see a flicker of… _something_ in her green eyes.

Clarke nearly scoffed. “You went to all that trouble to capture me just to let me go?”

While her posture and mask remained firmly in place, Lexa’s voice softened slightly. “I went to all that trouble to save you.”

Standing there, mere meters from each other, Clarke couldn’t help but be affected by Lexa’s presence. She always had been- which was something she’d realized during her self-imposed exile.

The frustrating thing was that Clarke had discovered that she really wanted to see Lexa drop some of her ironclad composure. Just a little. Just by the smallest amount so that Clarke could confirm that there was still a living, breathing, feeling _person_ underneath the armor of THE COMMANDER.

She’d considered why Lexa had become this way. Her whole “ _hodnes laik kwelnes_ ” philosophy was clearly born of tragedy, and besides, being Heda of the 12 Clans meant certain expectations needed to be met.

But they didn’t need this between _them_.

“You know when I could’ve used saving? When you abandoned me at Mount Weather.” Clarke practically spat and turned her back to Lexa, trying in vain to stare a hole in the curtains by her window. She wasn’t really sure if she just wanted Lexa to leave, or to storm up to her and spin her around before yelling at her.

It was a moment before she heard Lexa even shift. Clarke had been sure the dig would at least garner another lesson on leadership. She wanted to see or at least hear (seeing as her back was turned like a five year-old having a tantrum) Lexa get emotional. She wanted to know that Lexa was just as burdened by her decisions as Clarke. That she felt as much as Clarke. Clarke couldn’t stand the idea that she was alone in her turmoil.

A moment of silence later and she almost had to eye-roll at herself for her lack of conviction in staying petulant in front of Lexa as she let out a small huff before finally turning towards the woman whom she believed had caused her so much pain.

While Lexa hadn’t actually moved from where she had been standing, the change in her posture hit Clarke like a punch to the gut. Her shoulders had dropped the smallest amount, to look almost relaxed, and her hands were no longer clasped in front of her. They were at her sides making her posture look, quite simply, open. It was her eyes that nearly broke Clarke. Instead of the stoicism she had seen earlier, (and will never forget from Mount Weather) the green eyes that had haunted Clarke’s dreams and nightmares for months were almost… pleading. When Lexa finally spoke, holding Clarke’s softening gaze, her voice was as soft as the morning after the Pauna when she told Clarke she was safe.

“I told you plans change in battle. When the opportunity came to save my people without further bloodshed, I took it with the full intention of returning to defeat the Mountain once my people were clear. But I had no way of communicating the change to you and I also needed the Mountain Men to believe they had won. I knew I was sacrificing your trust when I stopped the attack, but I was never planning on leaving you there alone.” Lexa’s left hand twitched like it wanted to reach out to Clarke and reassure her of the truth of her words, but she knew she couldn’t. She knew Clarke would not accept her presence to be any closer now, and maybe not ever.

Clarke was torn. If what Lexa was saying was true, it almost made sense, tactically. If she were being honest with herself, it was a cunning tactic. Take the deal, get your people out, then stab _them_ in the back- because why break one alliance with people you can work with only to honor one with the monsters who’d been terrorizing your people for generations? But it was so hard for Clarke to trust anything Lexa said. It could all be simply lies.

“Then why didn’t you? Why was I left there alone with no options but to choose between watching my people die and committing genocide?” She needed to know, she HAD to know or else Clarke felt like she would explode. Life was not supposed to be this painful, but the ground had seemed to have other ideas.

Lexa seemed to pause a moment before gathering herself. “The prisoners of Mount Weather were in no condition to fight. You saw. The army we believed to be inside the Mountain would have been slaughtered by Maunon guns in seconds. I had my warriors escort them to the boundary I had ‘agreed’ upon with their President in order to guarantee their safety. I believed what you had told me about their treatment in the Mountain and I couldn’t ask them for more after seeing what they survived. When Indra returned, I asked her to free Lincoln because he would make better time back to you alone, and then lead myself and twenty gonas back through the Reaper tunnels to the door, but by the time we’d returned to the forest near the Mountain, we saw your people limping out. I knew that somehow you’d defeated them and… there seemed no point then in returning, not while everything was still so… raw. I never thought you’d leave your people, my intention was to request a meeting to explain but after you’d gone… well, I left it up to Indra to maintain what peace she could with your people.”

Clarke hated herself for thinking that it sort of made sense, but the emotion was still there, churning beneath the surface. In three quick steps, Clarke got into Lexa’s personal space, frustration radiating off her like steam off a warm lake on a cold morning. “Why should I believe you?” the words were breathed out between gritted teeth as Clarke searched Lexa’s green eyes for any indication of deception or manipulation.

Again Lexa paused a moment before responding. If Clarke thought about it, she’d have realized that this is how they worked: Clarke would push Lexa, and Lexa would take the time to think about how her response would affect Clarke- and how it would change things within her. With no other would Lexa do this as she was Heda. But with Clarke, Lexa saw too much of a kindred spirit and if she were completely honest, she saw someone who pushed her to be better than the “infallible Heda” she often needed to project for her people. Clarke was showing her, through her actions, that ruthlessness and detachment were not the only true measures of leadership.

“Clarke, the Maunon had terrorized my people for _generations_. Your forty-seven were a drop in the ocean of our losses. We did not even know what they were doing until you escaped. That only made their existence more of a threat. To know that they thought of us as mere… cattle,” Lexa practically spat the word out trying to contain her own anger over the treatment of her people through the years, “was something that could not stand. Why would I essentially free such dangerous people with no guarantee of future safety for my people? They still had their missiles, the Reapers and I would be a fool to believe they would not wish to expand or even rid themselves of us “savages” in the future. It is very likely that with their technology and weapons they could have my people either enslaved or destroyed within a generation. I could not take the risk of allowing them free, but the initial plan was failing and I had to make them vulnerable in their arrogance. Taking the deal was the first step in achieving that. I’m sorry that yes, I would have thought some of your people would be killed and I did not consider how precious each person is to you. Sometimes, while I must look out for all my people, I have a connection to but a few… and so lives become something abstract. But you… you are a force of nature Clarke. I underestimated your conviction even though I expected to find you in the Reaper tunnels. I said there is no weakness in your heart and I meant it. You bear the burden of leadership so others don’t have to… I understand, I do.”

It was the complete open honesty of Lexa’s voice and expression that broke Clarke. Her reasoning was too… _Lexa_ not to be true. But it all still hurt and she wished she didn’t have to be the person to make life and death choices almost as much as she knew she would constantly have to as the one her people would look to for that strength. Oh how she wished someone else could take her nightmares. Someone else could see the faces. Someone else could constantly ask themselves, ‘what if I made a different choice?’ or ‘what if there WAS a different choice?’ Someone else… like Lexa. Someone like Lexa who was born to do just all of those things. Lexa… no, she didn’t wish for Lexa to _take_ her burdens, Lexa was her _example_. She bore the burden of leadership for her people. Clarke wasn’t even sure how Lexa became Heda but she knew that it was not something Lexa asked for. Clarke knew that Lexa had done all the things Clarke wished she didn’t have to do and Lexa didn’t break.

Not even after Costia.

Clarke fell into Lexa’s arms as the first sobs began. She was so tired of staying angry, so tired of standing tall when she wanted to crumple- even just for a moment and Lexa did not waver as she caught Clarke. This was a moment where she could be that strength for Clarke. As Clarke clung desperately to Lexa, her face buried in Lexa’s neck, burrowing unconsciously for a comfort she didn’t know she craved until that moment- Lexa’s arms held strong and true.

After a few moments, Lexa carefully moved them to the bench seat in Clarke’s room, patient enough to see Clarke through this moment even if Clarke herself might me mortified about it later.

A small part of Clarke was scolding herself for being so weak in front of Lexa. For allowing Lexa to hold her and let Clarke take the comfort she needed, but a larger part of Clarke felt like this must be what ‘home’ felt like and it scared her just a little. But if she had learned one thing from her time on the ground it was that there was hardly the time for long contemplation and lingering doubts. Her time alone taught her that. Three months gone had served little purpose other than to allow Clarke the distraction of deluding herself that she was free of responsibility. She almost envied Octavia in a way- so fierce and with so much conviction, but completely free of responsibility. Besides, how much more could she break if she took this chance to believe Lexa, to be held in strong arms in this moment?

If what Lexa said was true, then she hadn’t been betraying Clarke as revenge for the actions of Skaikru against her people; not for some petty vengeance for Gostos, Anya or Clarke telling her ‘not yet’ after **_the kiss_**. It wouldn’t be a punishment for not allowing Indra’s people their ‘justice’ against Finn or for their incursion upon their lands. If Lexa was being truthful, then she was doing exactly what Clarke should have come to expect from her: she was being cunning, ruthless and adapting to the situation. Lexa herself had told Clarke that ‘plans rarely hold up in battle’ and now Clarke had first-hand experience that it was true. Clarke internally scoffed at her single-minded focus at the Mountain. She could never figure out why Lexa seemed so calm and while she was in her self-imposed exile, she had almost believed it was because she thought Lexa had planned to betray her people all along.

Clarke knows- while quietly sobbing in Lexa’s arms- just how truly foolish that belief always was. But Clarke was hurt, and Lexa was an easy target- at the time. Now though, Clarke was just not sure. Everything changed as she saw the sincerity in Lexa’s eyes. She had never meant to betray Clarke, but the situation at the Mountain required an adapted plan- one that she really had no way of conveying to Clarke at the time. In truth, it was almost a test of Clarke’s faith in Lexa, and it was one Clarke failed miserably at the time.

Now though, now perhaps some of the trust could be rebuilt, but it would not be easy for Clarke and she was not even sure if Lexa would have the patience for it. _Another lie_ , she thought, Lexa has already shown her that she had the patience needed. She allowed Clarke a week to be as petulant as she wanted and took Clarke’s every verbal rebuff in stride.

Still, Lexa was no fool and Clarke knew the stories about her defeating of the Mountain Men had spread throughout the clans. She knew they called her ‘Wanheda’ aka ‘The Commander of Death’ and knew the Grounder belief in taking the power from one you kill. Niylah, kind Niylah whom Clarke did not treat particularly well, had talked about her in awe and had also mentioned much in terms of Grounder culture off-handily and if Clarke really had have been paying attention instead of being consumed by her own self-pity, she would have realized that Niylah had obviously known who she was from the moment they first met.

Lexa’s earlier comments came back into focus for Clarke as she tried to control her breathing being held in Lexa’s arms. The smell of her skin was considerably distracting considering the rampant manner in which Clarke’s thoughts were bouncing around her head at the moment. On every inhale, inaudible whispers of _forest_ , _ground_ and _home_ seemed to permeate Clarke’s senses only helping to calm her rapid heartbeat with each passing moment.

Lexa needed her. While Clarke knew Lexa believed at this point that “not yet” was probably now a “never”, she still needed Clarke politically, that much was obvious. If Lexa wasn’t going to make a public spectacle of taking Wanheda’s power- which she obviously wasn’t, given that she’d invited Clarke’s mother to Polis for a peace summit, and Lexa wasn’t stupid- then she would still need public support from Clarke to maintain her control of the Coalition.

Letting out a sigh of ‘and just when I thought I was out’, Clarke pulled back from the embrace she shared with Lexa carefully. She knew how tender things were between them and with Lexa looking at the moment like a frightened deer; Clarke couldn’t find it within herself to enjoy it. Clarke knew that her time away from responsibility was over and if there was one thing Clarke could be sure of, it was that she’d never be able to truly walk away from all that she cared about. Not without doing everything she could to ensure their safety.

Their legs were still touching and Lexa’s hands were twitching in her lap as Clarke gave her a once-over before speaking.

“You need Wanheda, don’t you? My actions weakened your position as Heda, right?” Clarke was surprised that there was no real accusation in her tone, just questioning acceptance.

Lexa swallowed slightly as if she’d been bracing for a slap in the face and Clarke felt the sting of pain at the sight deep within her chest. “Yes, our scouts have informed me that an Ice Nation army is moving toward Polis as we speak. Their proximity to Trikru territory and to Arkadia is troubling. I know you won’t like this Clarke, but I need to show the Coalition that Wanheda’s power is mine to command.” 

“What’s ‘Arkadia’? Did they rename Camp Jaha?” Clarke realized she’d been gone long enough for real changes to have taken place amongst her people as she ignored what it was that she might ‘not like’ for the moment.

“So Indra has informed me. She also said Skaikru have been making trips to Mount Weather. So far it looks like only supplies and trinkets have been removed.” Lexa clearly did not like the idea of Skaikru in Mount Weather, but she contained that ire for the moment deciding to deal with one problem at a time.

Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose and stood up in order to pace as it helped relieve some of the tension that had sprung up at this new development. How could her people be so stupid? The Grounders already thought of them as being too much like the Maunon, and now they were making supply runs into Mount Weather? She supposed that without a real alliance with the Grounders, her people were just doing what they had to in order to survive. If that wasn’t the motto for the ground, she didn’t know what was. It made the Traveller’s Blessing something of a pipe-dream. But first thing’s first. War was brewing again and once again, Clarke was right at the center of it all, whether she liked it or not.

“You need me to bow before you, don’t you? In front of the clan representatives I take it?” Clarke continued her pacing back and forth in front of Lexa as she thought. Ice Nation near her people was a troubling thought. Even with guns, Skaikru didn’t have the people or the training to win a war against the most war-hungry of the Coalition clans. Even worse was the fact that Ice Nation could call upon the Coalition for aid even if _they_ started a war with Arkadia. They could make up any excuse they wanted and her people would face death- again. The gears were turning and Clarke was doing what she did best- working through a problem and gathering as much information as she could.

This was the Clarke that Lexa loved to see. She had to stifle the smile that threatened her lips at seeing Clarke be once again the leader she was always meant to be. Whether she’d been trained for it or not, Clarke was a leader, through and through. “Yes, if you bow before me in front of the Clan ambassadors, the people of the Coalition will know that I command your strength. This is preferable to the alternative, despite what my advisors might think…” Lexa let the thought trail off as she would not ever consider killing Clarke for her power.

Clarke paused in her pacing to really _look_ at Lexa. Marcus had once called her a ‘visionary’ and Clarke could admit to herself that it was probably true. Despite the brutal-yet-honest nature of the ground, the bulk of the Grounders were very single-minded in their approach to adversity. Lexa was different. She was the ultimate authority in the Coalition and yet she did not rule over the Coalition as a dictator. She allowed each clan to govern itself for the most part and she had to consider many possible outcomes to each conflict within the Coalition. Killing Clarke for her ‘power’ was the easy path for her people to see, but Lexa saw not only the war it would bring, but when she looked at Clarke, Clarke really felt like Lexa saw great things in her. Sometimes the weight of that look felt almost too heavy for Clarke, but it also seemed to give her a strength she didn’t know she had as well. This conflict within her regarding Lexa was going to be the death of her, Clarke was sure.

“What guarantee does that give my people that Ice Nation won’t attack though?” Clarke knew there was more to what Lexa was saying that she _wasn’t_ saying.

“While having Wanheda’s power within my control, you are right, with no real alliance with Skaikru, any clan could attack your people without reprisal from the Coalition. I want to prevent that and while I’ve told the ambassadors that the summit tonight was to discuss a peace treaty with Skaikru, what I’d prefer is that Skaikru instead become part of the Coalition. I want your people to become my people, Clarke. I would never again have to choose between us and no clan could attack Skaikru without facing reprisal from the Coalition.”

Clarke stopped and stared at Lexa, her mouth agape. If Skaikru were a part of the Coalition, they’d be guaranteed safety from the Clans. Lexa would be obligated to respond to Skaikru’s call for help if they were attacked. An attack on one clan is an attack on all after all. The difficulty would be in convincing her mother- or whomever was currently Chancellor- that it was in their best interest to join the Coalition. Her mouth clicked shut as she began her pacing again and she worried her hands together while she thought. Lexa sat patiently and stoically as ever waiting for Clarke’s response.

While she could probably convince the Chancellor of joining the Coalition, Clarke could tell that Lexa was putting herself on the line as well. The Clans may not be so inviting of Skaikru into the Coalition and Clarke wondered what that would mean for Lexa. Lincoln had once said that if Lexa showed enough ‘weakness’ her people would kill her. Kill their own Commander… but _how_ exactly would they go about doing that? It didn’t seem like a simple mob mentality would prevail and they’d storm her tower.

“Lexa, what does it mean for you if Skaikru joins the Coalition? Surely the ambassadors will have complaints?” Clarke moved to sit on the seat next to Lexa once again, but kept a small amount of space between them. She needed to focus.

“Perhaps, but I am still their commander and they will accept my decision. Together we can show both our people that such a union is in our best interests. I forged this Coalition by dragging the clans together kicking and screaming once, and I’ll do it again if I have to.” Lexa almost sounded hopeful in her conviction regarding the current course of action being discussed. This entire encounter with Clarke was, while emotional for both of them, going much better than Lexa would have thought. Once again, Clarke’s fortitude never ceased to amaze her.

“What kind of danger will this bring to you though? Lincoln once said your people would just kill you if they thought you as weak. What does that mean? Will your advisors simply stab you in the back or drag you to a tree?” Clarke didn’t know why she needed to know- well, she did, but she didn’t want to really think about it right now- because at least with Lexa in command, she knew who she was dealing with- at least that’s what she told herself in the moment.

“When the Coalition was formed, there were concerns that the Heda could possibly become a tyrant so I instituted a law that said that the Commander could be removed from power only by death or a unanimous vote of no confidence by the ambassadors of the Clans.” Her voice was even and her gaze did not stray from Clarke’s but the implication was there. The ‘unanimous vote’ was still a death sentence for Lexa.

“Dammit Lexa! It’s always death!” Clarke stormed off the seat once again in frustration. How Lexa could continue to talk about the possibility of her own death so easily irked Clarke in ways she wasn’t quite comfortable with. “And don’t you give me the ‘death is not the end’ speech!” Clarke interrupted Lexa before she could even speak and Lexa decided that discretion was the better part of valour so she closed her slightly agape mouth and waited patiently for Clarke to work out the plan on her own.

Finding herself near a shelf, Clarke absently picked up an unlit candle and shook her head as a slight smile graced her lips. The tower was full of candles and Clarke had this absurd thought of Lexa demanding the candle makers in Polis be given every resource and assistance in order to continue their ‘vital’ work.

Putting down the candle, she let her mind focus back on the problem: how to safeguard Lexa from her own Coalition. It was only because Lexa being in command was good for her people. Clarke repeated that thought a few times before she had to admit that it was a pointless venture. Despite everything between them, Clarke ultimately did not want Lexa to come to harm- which was a startling enough realization for Clarke seeing as she was probably ready to stab the woman in the eyeballs not ten minutes earlier.

_Life on the ground_ , Clarke thought, _life on the ground…_ She turned back to Lexa.

“If Skaikru becomes the 13th Clan, will we have an ambassador?”

“Yes, Skaikru would be granted an ambassador… I was going to suggest you take up the position, but I understand if you did not-” Lexa had stood and was slowly making her way over to Clarke as she spoke, but Clarke held her hand up briefly in a manner so Heda-like that Lexa stopped in her tracks.

“I’ll do it. I’m angry Lexa, but… I don’t hate you. Time will tell if I can believe everything you’ve said, but I am at least willing to work with you on this. As you say, if Skaikru joins the Coalition, they will become your people too and you protect your people, of that I am certain. As ambassador, maybe I can keep you to your word, and alive. I’ve told you before that I need your spirit to stay right where it is and that hasn’t changed.”

Relief flooded through Lexa at Clarke’s words. She hoped Clarke would see the plan that would be best for both their people and she was right about her faith in Clarke, even if Clarke’s faith in Lexa was damaged possibly beyond repair. A victory, no matter how small was still a victory and Lexa let a small part of her fears relax for the moment.

“I have a meeting with the Ambassadors this morning to inform them of the Summit and your people should be arriving in an hour or so. I’ll have them brought to my room for you to meet with them privately beforehand.” This seemed to be the end of their discussion and Clarke idly wondered if she had actually made Lexa late. Of course, Heda was probably not ever ‘late’, everyone else was just early and Clarke nodded her head in ascent of the plan.

However, as Lexa turned to walk out the door, Clarke couldn’t help but worry. Ice Nation was clearly making a play against Lexa’s strength in response to her walking away from Mount Weather and Clarke having destroyed it. Would the Ice Queen, who, if she’s even half as cunning, ruthless and power-hungry as Clarke’s heard, simply let Skaikru join the Coalition without seeding some kind of dissent amongst the clans towards Lexa? Were the other Clans as devoted to Lexa as Trikru? Despite having Clarke kneel before her, Lexa’s position may still be in danger if the Clans saw the ‘mercy’ of allowing Wanheda to live as weakness. There had to be another way to ensure the rest of the Clans’ loyalty to their Heda even if Ice Nation was probing for weaknesses…

“Wait.”

Lexa stopped half-way out the door as the guards posted outside Clarke’s room, for her safety, barely flinched at the actions of Heda and Wanheda. Clarke motioned for Lexa to come back in the room as she moved to the far side away from the door. Clarke didn’t trust anyone in the tower at the moment save Lexa and that was hard enough. Lexa closed the door and moved to where Clarke had gone with a question in her eyes.

“I’ve got an idea, and it might just be crazy enough to make this all work out a bit better.”

Lexa couldn’t help the small smile this time, nor did she want to.


	2. Welcome to Polis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One in which Stuff is Said... Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I didn't want to bother with writing in Trig, so the quoted italics represents the spoken Grounder language. I also didn't want to just plug "Heda" and "Wanheda" in there because of it. I may just do that in the future because I am lazy. It was difficult finding a way to make this all work as it is hard to justify Lexa being so talkative to her people but I feel like the event is not entirely out of character for either Clarke or Lexa. Also, I wanted this chapter to be from Abby's perspective, but snuck in a few moments of Marcus's and I hope it works. I also had to plug holes created by the stupidity of the show as quickly as possible. It basically wrote itself after that.
> 
> Thank you for your patience as this took a while to write, and I may still edit it later. I find myself stopping these chapters because I catch myself just writing and writing...

The sun shone through the Polis city-scape in an array of scattered beams of light, dust and smoke as Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin, and a couple other guards from Arkadia were escorted into the city center. Marcus made no attempt to hide his enthusiasm as he looked from one shop stand to the next, even trading part of his armor for some fried food on a stick to enjoy. Abby watched on with a bit of awe. She wished she could be as open and happy as Marcus, but her shoulders were so tired from the burdens she was currently bearing. Her only real motivation right now was getting her daughter back, Marcus could handle the rest. In fact…

“You were born for this.”

“Hmm?” Marcus got the questioning sound out in between bites and licking his fingers. His goofy smile remained firmly in place until Abby removed the Chancellor’s pin and held it out to him.

“This should be yours,” Abby said in all seriousness. Her time as Chancellor was tumultuous at best and it took almost everything she had outside of her work as the Chief of Medical to keep from breaking under the constant pressure. Settling her people in Arkadia amid an unsure relationship with the Grounders, dealing with Raven and what she can do to help her, _not_ dealing with Jasper and what was clearly a case of severe PTSD. She’s not even remotely sure why she brought him to Mount Weather on the last trip. Emersion therapy was probably a poor way to treat PTSD on a whim and Jasper needed serious help. Not only was he drunk constantly, but the ground was no picnic for anyone. There were no lazy days- you work, or you starve or die.

In fact, life on the Ark wasn’t that different. You needed to be useful. Dead weight usually ended up floating… it was actually rather ironic that metaphorical ‘dead weight’ often became actual ‘dead weight’ floating about in orbit briefly. Until they built a life for themselves, the people from the Ark were going to need to get through this difficult transition in living on the ground. Abby was not the leader to see them through this, but Marcus Kane was. Besides, today she would be getting her daughter back and Abby knew that she had a long way to go in repairing _that_ relationship.

He wished it were that easy, he really did, but Marcus had to close his hands around Abby’s outstretched one and gently pushed the pin back to her. “Not like this. We’ve been passing the Chancellor’s pin since we landed on the ground. This time it’s up to the people.”

For a small moment, Abby Griffin allowed herself to take comfort in the genuine kindness in Marcus Kane’s eyes. He’d changed so much since they came to the ground. Even before that, if Abby was to think a bit harder on it.

_Since the culling._

He knows how the burdens of leadership can change a person, for better or for worse. Perhaps, he could help Clarke and Abby find some common ground again.

“Well, lets hold-”

“Marcus kom Skaikru!”

The moment between them was broken by a slightly less-stoic Indra making her way through the crowd toward the Skaikru delegation. Marcus moved from Abby’s side to greet Indra in the Grounder fashion of clasping forearms.

“Indra,” he said with a smile. “I see you made it to the Commander safely.”

“My friend,” Indra spoke with a nod and less than her usual gruffness to Marcus. Mutual respect was a fascinating thing, Abby thought.

“Things have changed, both of you should follow me.” Indra looked from Marcus to Abby (with her usual distain for the Skaikru “Chancellor”) as they all finally heard the loud beginnings of a crowd forming somewhere further into the city.

Abby rushed forward to where Marcus and Indra were beginning to move towards the growing noise of people. “What’s going on? Is Clarke safe?” Her worry for her daughter was undimmed by time and distance.

Indra briefly glanced around for interested ears before pulling Abby and Marcus close. “Wanheda continues to defy expectation. Come quickly and see. The Commander cancelled the morning meeting with the Ambassadors in favor of having an assembly.”

“An assembly?” Abby was confused but Indra simply grunted as she started leading them through the streets of Polis. Abby wasn’t sure exactly how Grounder politics worked, but from what she understood, the Commander was in control of it all in some way or another. Seemed like something big was happening and Abby wasn’t sure if she was going to like it.

“Marcus, about what you said, why there was a bounty on Clarke…” Abby couldn’t help the worry enter her voice as she, Marcus, their guards and the Grounder escorts followed the path Indra cut through the growing crowd.

Marcus knew Abby was terrified for Clarke. She’d not been sleeping and felt that Clarke leaving had something to do with her in the first place. Telling her about the bounty was probably not his best idea but she was the Chancellor; mother or not. “Lexa is not cruel despite what you may think of her, nor is she stupid. She would not invite us here to make a public spectacle of taking Wanheda’s power. It would only bring more war. She’s young, but I stand by my earlier assertion of her being a visionary.” He whispered, in case there was anything to the suspicious glances Indra kept throwing left and right as they moved.

Abby may not have believed in the Commander, but she was more and more believing in Marcus Kane, so she drew a small breath and gathered herself as they continued to make their way through the winding streets and growing crowd. She was the Chancellor after all- even if it may only be for a short time longer. She needed to be strong for Clarke… and for herself. Breaking down in the Grounder capital was not something Abby wanted to contemplate at the moment.

Indra was leading them into an open area that had raised seating on one side for people to gather, and it was filling with locals quickly, and covered stage facing the largest open area. Indra had stopped their group off to the side of the main open area but close enough for them to see the stage and everyone on it. Abby saw the Commander, in full armor, minus the warpaint, looking regal and _powerful,_ moving to the front of the stage as if to speak. Behind her was her throne-like chair with the antler back and beside it a bald, somewhat frustrated looking man dressed in dark robes, as well as twelve other chairs, each with their own unique backs and symbols upon them, filled with what she supposed were the ambassadors of the twelve clans. Finally, she saw Clarke.

Her Clarke, alive and apparently… well. She appeared clean, and her hair looked washed and was done up in intricate braids- of a similar design to the Commander- she thought with some confusion. Her clothing appeared new as well, to Abby at least, featuring a light leather-armor overcoat with the many buckles that seemed to make up the Grounder warrior fashion, with a light blue shirt underneath, black pants and boots. She was standing opposite the bald man on the other side of the Commander’s throne, tall and strong. Her baby girl was _alive_ and _safe_. Abby allowed herself a moment to finally breathe. It was like a dream, and like in a dream, she was still too far away from her daughter, but could not close the distance yet.

The noise of the crowd that had finally filled the area stopped almost completely as the stoic Commander held up her right hand briefly and Abby was again in both awe and minor disbelief that this… _child_ led a coalition of people- that she had in fact _formed_ it. Marcus looked around briefly before turning his gaze back to the Commander and Abby saw respect in his eyes. The Commander was someone Marcus could believe in and for the moment it gave Abby some hope for their future.

_“My people! My warriors, farmers, merchants, artists… mothers, fathers, daughters and sons! Klark kom Skaikru, legendary Commander of Death, has returned to us!”_ Lexa’s voice carried over the crowd and a small cheer began amongst the people. Despite the relations between the Grounders and the people from the Ark being... strained, at the best of times, they all seemed to have a certain awed respect for Clarke and what she has done- for better or for worse. Marcus had understood most of what Lexa had said and was impressed as he glanced around the crowd. The Commander started off by including everyone in her coalition in the address. He couldn’t help but think again how she was wise beyond her years.

“What’s she saying?” Abby whispered, not wanting to interrupt what seemed like an important moment. Indra moved from the side of the stage to Abby and told her she’d translate for her for which Abby was grateful. Marcus was as well, seeing as it was taking the bulk of his concentration to understand what was being said. He’d have to ask for clarification from Indra on a few things as well.

_“There are those who have told me that I should not attempt to do what cannot be done. When I became Commander, my vision for a united Coalition of Clans was met with disbelief and shock.”_ Lexa paused a moment, looking out into the crowd. Abby saw her glance briefly in their direction before speaking again, and again with Indra whispering the translation quietly to her.

_“But I believe in a future where we don’t have to fear sending our children off to war; a world in which our children can flourish without the shadow of death.”_ Again, another pause to let her words settle upon the crowd, with the accompanying murmur of positive sentiment, and if Marcus’ suspicion was correct, to allow Indra to continue her translations.

_“I formed the Coalition between our peoples because I believed that as Commander, the people from **ALL** Clans were my people, not just Trikru or Floukru, and not just- as some may have you believe- to ally against the greater threat of the Mountain, even if it did provide sufficient initial motivation.”_ Marcus noticed a few of the ambassadors had begun whispering amongst themselves, and after giving Abby and Indra a quick glance, saw that Indra seemed just as interested- if not more so- in the ambassadors as well. Abby was staring at Clarke, who was staring between Lexa and the gathered crowd and hadn’t seemed to notice her mother in the crowd yet.

_“But the Coalition is only as strong as its weakest link and I refused to allow such weakness to divide us. Thus, with the help of Clarke kom Skaikru, a plan was formed.”_ A change swept through the gathered crowd and seated ambassadors at the Commander’s words. Abby seemed as unsure of what was happening as everyone else, so she didn’t feel quite so left out, despite Indra’s translations.

_“The alliance with Skaikru gave us all the opportunity to be free of the Mountain forever, but it was never going to be an easy victory- nor one without sacrifice.”_ Her last words were spoken with a brief glance back at Clarke and Abby’s heart nearly broke at what that moment must have been like for Clarke. Sergeant Miller had told her of the exchange outside the Mountain when she had questioned **_everyone_** about Clarke after she disappeared.

The Commander continued, undeterred over the murmuring crowd gathered. _“Sacrifice… is different for everyone. For a leader, it can be the most painful because a leader must bear it without breaking. A leader needs to always be someone their people look to for strength, but sometimes a leader is forged from the choices they make instead of being chosen. Such is the case of Klark kom Skaikru.”_ The Commander then gestured back towards Clarke and Abby saw the slight apprehension in her daughter before she walked up to stand beside the Commander. It was gone so quickly that she would have missed it if she didn’t know her daughter so well. Her heart broke for the girl who has suffered so much; the betrayal of her father by her mother; locked up in solitary waiting for death for trying to do the right thing; being sacrificed to the ground for ‘the greater good’; losing friends, a first love… the list of things her daughter has survived made Abby sick to her stomach. This was not her ‘little girl’ standing on the stage in front of a crowd of hundreds of Grounders who all looked at her like she was a myth come to life.

No, standing close to the Commander was her daughter, the leader of a people, who’d been forced to grow up too fast yet did not seem broken by it. _She was every bit Jake Griffin’s daughter_ Abby thought to herself as she tried to make eye contact with her only flesh and blood.

_“You all have heard the stories of our beginning- Skaikru and Trikru- of the ignorance and violence that nearly led us to mutual destruction, but what you don’t know of is how Klark kom Skaikru fought to bridge the gap between our peoples. She sought to learn from me as I did from her and what we found is that our peoples were not that different after all. Klark kom Skaikru takes the long view, as I do, for the betterment of our people. She worried for her people after the fall of the Mountain, as I did for mine.”_ The Commander then gave another brief tilt of her head towards Clarke and Abby knew her daughter was then going to speak. She wondered momentarily if she’d been told what was going to be said beforehand before she was once again stunned by her daughter as she began to speak- Trigedesleng.

_“Good people of Polis- of the twelve Clans. As our gracious Commander has mentioned, I am Klark kom Skaikru, and most of you know me as the Commander of Death.”_ Abby thought Indra was embellishing a bit in her translations if “ **our** gracious Commander” was anything to go by- until she caught the thoughtful expression on Marcus’ face and the accompanying roar of the gathered crowd. The people seemed excited **_and_** awed by her daughter. As if she was something of myth come to life.

Abby turned back to the stage, her mouth falling slightly agape as Clarke continued, _“When Skaikru first fell from the sky, we did not know that there were people living on the ground. It was an ignorance born of arrogance on our part, and ignorance breeds fear. The first of us were just children. Children sent to the ground to be given hope instead of a slow death in the Sky. Upon discovering we were not alone on the ground, we came to fear your fierceness,”_ and again the crowd roared to Clarke’s words and she paused to let them have their moment.

Marcus turned to Abby with a grin and whispered, “ _She_ was born for this.” The fact that she had not exposed the truth of why ‘The Hundred’ were really sent to the ground suggested that Clarke did not want undue anger directed towards the original leadership of the Ark. Clarke was intentionally- and subtly- integrating the idea of Skaikru _with_ the Coalition and it was brilliant in his opinion. She was doing more with words than an army ever could to win a battle of acceptance.

As the crowd settled down, Clarke allowed a somewhat somber look upon her face, _“we feared your brutality- and what we called ‘savagery’.”_ She shook her head slightly, looking down. Abby got the feeling that the crowd was not exactly sure how to react in the moment, but they were held firm by Clarke’s presence. Even if she didn’t know exactly what was going on, Abby Griffin couldn’t have been more proud of her daughter in that moment.

_“But the truth is- you- the **people** of the twelve Clans, are in truth more honest in your actions than my people… and I found it inspiring!”_ Clarke had looked back upon the gathered masses and spoke with such conviction as her voice rose that once again the crowd roared their agreement with her words. They were putty in her hands and she was moulding them into a work of art.

Abby was taken in by the Commander standing so strong beside her daughter. Her usual stoic face was now showing the barest hint of a smile, and if she didn’t know any better, pride.

_“Now, we knew the Mountain Men had no honour. They were like snakes that strike fast and slither away until you succumbed to your wounds. The Commander and I knew that a battle between our alliance and them would not just be fought with warriors, but with cunning.”_ With talk of the Mountain, the crowd seemed to get even more riled up. Abby could see such anger, hate and resentment- not directed at Clarke, but rather at the idea of the Mountain and all held within. These people had lost so much to a people that made no effort for diplomacy, but rather simply took and used the people of the ground in the name of survival. If there was one difference between those from the Ark and those in the Mountain, Abby could at least take solace in the fact that it _killed_ _them emotionally_ to live the way they did. Abby would bear the scar of her husband’s death for the rest of her life. Marcus wore the scar of pushing for the culling as a lesson never to be forgotten, and Jaha… Jaha had completely broken- that much was clear the last time Abby had seen the man.

_“It became clear that to achieve victory against the Mountain Men, it would take cunning and sacrifice,”_ Clarke continued as the roar of the crowd dulled, _“for their weakness was a combination of arrogance and cowardice. Once they discovered that the people from the sky were not only a treatment, but a cure for their inability to live outside the mountain, they sent their cowardly ‘warriors’ out immediately to try and hurt us. The cowardly attack on TonDC had proved this. It also showed us that the Mountain Men no longer needed the people of the clans they had captured, so the Commander and I saw them now as hostages that would likely be used against us. Specifically, they would be used against the Commander. That much was clear.”_

Marcus looked to Abby who was showing a bit of confusion over the translation given to her quietly by Indra. He needed to make sure she didn’t react to what was coming because he had a feeling where this was going. It was both brilliant and dangerous if Abby reacted poorly. He stood pressed to her side and whispered into her ear, “Abby, whatever happens next, do not react in any way other than a positive one. What Clarke is doing could make or break **everything**.” She looked at him like she wanted to speak but held her tongue to maintain her concentration on the translation being provided by a very obviously alert Indra. Her hand never left the pommel of her sword attached to her hip. Sgt. Miller and Burns behind them were obviously aware and nervous, but were not getting the translation so were quite in the dark of what was going on.

_“The Commander and I suspected that once we disabled the acid fog and brought the glorious army of the Coalition upon the Mountain, they would only have one course of action: to divide our forces and barter the Coalition prisoners held within the Mountain for their lives. For they at least had the ability to see what was so plain to anyone who looked- Commander Lexa loves her people- YOU. While one might teach a leader that ‘love is weakness’, and the Mountain Men hoped it would prove one to destroy the alliance between Skaikru and the Coalition, it can also be an incredible strength.”_ The crowd was enraptured with Clarke’s words and there was barely a murmur now rolling amongst them.

Abby was seething internally. She knew where this was headed. That the “betrayal” was **_planned_**. That it was always the intention of the Commander to make it look like she was crushing Abby’s daughter’s faith in order to make the Mountain Men think they’d won. To make them complacent. Outwardly, she could only flex her jaw muscles as she at least understood what Marcus had meant despite her instinct to disagree with his assessment.

Once again, the Commander began to speak, giving Clarke a small reprieve. _“When given the opportunity to have my people released from the Mountain without further violence, I would be bound as Commander to take such an offer. While it may have been perceived that accepting the deal was a betrayal of the alliance with Skaikru, allowing that belief was necessary for the victory against the Mountain. They believed that I would honour such a deal. That I would forget the crimes committed against my people for **generations**. That I would **hope** that once free of the Mountain they wouldn’t try to take our lands. That they wouldn’t use their cowardly missiles to threaten and coerce the subjugation of MY PEOPLE!”_ The Commander roared the last words herself and the crowd followed. Abby was surprised she was still stunned by the reactions of the Grounders to their leader. For so long she held the belief that this child was somehow merely a ceremonial leader. But now, now she could see how the people absolutely _LOVED_ her. As much, if not more than she loved them and she found herself blinking back wetness in her eyes at the unwanted revelation.

It was then that Abby began to see past the superficial differences between Skaikru and the Grounders. She thought back to a conversation she had with Marcus while buried under the rubble in TonDC. When she had asked him how Clarke could have let the missile fall on TonDC, he told her she learned it from _them_. The Ark and its ways shaped Clarke into the young leader who bore terrible burdens for her people and she could now see how the ground and the harsh conditions of survival had shaped the Commander. _They were certainly a pair_ , she thought with a certain sadness born of the feeling of failure from a maternal figure to protect her offspring from all of life’s hardships. Idly, she wondered if the Commander still had family, but quickly decided that thinking further along those lines may just lead to more unwanted sympathy for the young woman who was once again _using_ her daughter.

She leaned further into Marcus as the cheers and roars of the crowd had still not abated. “She’s using Clarke _again_. She’s using my daughter for her own gains _again_.” It was all but a hiss.

“Abby, you know Clarke well enough to know that not only would she not simply allow herself to be used, but this was all likely her idea. She wants peace. This can give it to us if the Clans of the Coalition believe their leader to be this cunning. Fear, awe and love make for strong bonds to a leader. Doubt leaves cracks that can be widened and exploited. They’re sealing the cracks Abby and besides, as Indra said, we don’t know the whole story. Try to be patient, for Clarke’s sake. It’s time we believed in her instead of worried for her.” Looking at the sincerity and wisdom in the eyes of the man she was beginning to see in a new light almost every day, Abby’s gaze lingered just a moment longer as if searching for any trace of the man Marcus Kane once was. She saw none and gave a brief nod, turning back to the stage and Indra’s side. Indra, for her part, was constantly scanning the crowd and paying particular attention to some of the ambassadors seated on the stage who seemed to be whispering to each other in heated exchanges.

The crowd settled once again and Abby watched Clarke look to the Commander briefly before speaking after receiving another small nod. It was a communication she once may have felt was manipulative- even only moments ago if she were honest- but she was starting to see something more in the exchanges between her daughter and the Commander. It was more of a mutual respect than one of leader and subject.

_“Our plan worked. The Mountain Men believed they had manipulated the Commander into abandoning her alliance with Skaikru and all but giving them the victory in battle and the war. I was then able to make it to my small team waiting in the Reaper tunnels and infiltrate the Mountain.”_ Clarke paused and gathered herself for a moment and Abby could see her struggle to remain stoic.

_“Once we had control of the Mountain, we gave them one last opportunity to surrender. To be able to spend the rest of their lives making amends to the people of the twelve Clans for their crimes over your history. Sometimes ‘blood must have blood’ can be…”_ it was obvious, upon hearing the translation from Indra, that Clarke had to navigate this carefully. The Grounders were quite attached to their system of punishment after all. _“…short-sighted. Killing an enemy often solves the immediate problem, but can create lasting ones. I have learned some of your history from the Commander and know of the tensions between some of the Clans. People don’t forget; even a justified punishment can foster resentment that can become dangerous in the future. But, I’m getting ahead of myself… the Mountain Men refused to surrender the members of Skaikru they were going to kill so they could be free of the Mountain. In that final act of ignorant defiance, they doomed their entire people and I was left with no choice but to destroy them all.”_

The last part was said with such conviction and sadness that no one in the crowd roared. The people of the Clans, who were so used to war and death, who only moments ago were roaring with such fervor, seemed to sense the power of the moment that Clarke was projecting. The Commander spoke again, clearly allowing Clarke to take a moment and Abby was impressed at how well she seemed to be able to read her daughter.

_“The people have wondered why the Commander of Death had disappeared after the fall of the Mountain. They felt that her actions weakened me. They wanted her power for their own. Those who wish harm upon the Commander of Death are those that wish harm upon this Coalition of proud people- **my** people.”_ Again, the masses remained silent as the strong voice and hard eyes of the Commander gazed upon them, showing her complete devotion to them. _“The scar of such an act as committed by the Commander of Death is not one that is easily healed by a leader with a heart big enough to carry an entire people. Klark kom Skaikru needed time to accept a destiny thrust upon her shoulders and it is something that I, Commander Lexa of the Coalition of the Twelve Clans, applaud her for.”_

At this, the Commander turned to Clarke, unsheathed her sword and raised her right sword arm high in the air. The reaction of the crowd was immediate- hundreds of arms shot straight up in the air- swords, staffs and other weapons were visible among the throng of people among the beginning chants of “Wanheda! Wanheda!” which Abby now understood was the horrible title, ‘Commander of Death’, given to Clarke by these people. Yet, this was a show of respect and it nearly blew Abby away.

The next moment almost did for sure. One of the ambassadors, of which Clan Abby wasn’t sure, stood from their seat and turned toward Clarke, who noticed and looked over. The ambassador said something that could not be heard over the crowd and then kneeled. Another ambassador did the same a short moment later.

Then another.

Another looked to those seated to his left and right before doing the same. Abby sensed something big was happening and if the look of smugness barely visible on Indra’s usually stoic features beside her was any indication- this was a good thing.

By the time the third ambassador had knelt, those in the crowd had begun to kneel as well. Their arms were still raised as if to say their weapons were at Clarke’s – and by obvious extension the Commander’s – disposal. Marcus looked around in awe for a moment before tugging on Abby and kneeling as well. Indra had also knelt and a brief look back at Miller and Burns had them doing it as well. Abby thought there was no sense sticking out like a sore thumb and besides, she could give her daughter this moment.

After a few moments, the bald man who had maintained a constant mask of… possibly constipation, (Abby wasn’t sure) throughout the assembly knelt and only Clarke and the Commander were standing leaving but one ambassador still seated- a gruff-looking man wearing a patchwork of white furs and an expression of complete frustration and anger. “Azgeda…” Indra hissed in her ear.

_Ice Nation_.

The sworn enemies of Trikru and the Commander- that much Abby had gleaned for herself during her time on the ground at least.

It was then that the Commander looked to the Ice Nation ambassador with slotted eyes that said, “You can die now, it’s your choice…” and he begrudgingly ended up kneeling as well. Clarke seemed shocked regarding everything that was happening before gathering herself quickly when the Commander turned softening eyes back to her, her arm still raised.

Clarke then did the thing that this whole event had inevitably led to- she turned toward the Commander and knelt, raising her right arm while grasping a dagger she had unsheathed with some apparent skill and bowed her head. The Commander of Death was submitting to the Commander. The alliance with Skaikru had never actually been broken and in fact, it now also appeared that Skaikru had done all it had done to protect and save the people of the Coalition from a threat that had loomed over them for generations.

Abby had to admit to herself that it was a political ‘coup de grace’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut it off there as it felt right being the observer of this moment. Not sure if I captured it well enough. I could have written a few thousand more words of description easily but wanted to keep things a bit tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, let me know if there are any spelling or any terrible grammar problems. I hate what JRoth did to The 100 in Season 3. I hate that he made Clarke an asshole. I hate that he crucified Bellamy's character. I hate that Jasper did not evolve AT ALL by the end of the season, that Raven has become a constant Deus Ex Machina for the series and I hate that Octavia stayed ignorant of responsibility even after episode 6 when she finally had some and experienced first hand how difficult it is when the lives of OTHER people rest on your shoulders.  
> *sigh* maybe "hate" is too strong a word. How about "I feel strongly about"? ;)


End file.
